


Heroes, Thieves, Mysteries; A Plot of Evil and A Quest for Peace

by KinbariTeaHeathen



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (that'll make sense later), AU, EEL MEN, Heroes and Thieves, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, also and Investigation Club, he doesn't show up much though, they're all in canada btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:29:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinbariTeaHeathen/pseuds/KinbariTeaHeathen
Summary: At the University of Toronto in Canada, most students live their lives in fear of term papers and student debt. One aspiring journalist, Thomas Sanders, learns that there’s much more to fear than that. He, along with a small group of friends get caught up in an ever-growing conspiracy of heroes, thieves, evil scientists, and superpowers.





	1. Enter A Villain (Or Enter Confusion)

**Author's Note:**

> Me and my friend are writing this together. We hope you enjoy!

“FALSEHOOD!!!!!”

Thomas was extraordinarily surprised. He had been enjoying his late night meal, at the University of Toronto’s Robarts Cafeteria. He hadn’t expected Logan “Logic” Wright to be expressing this level of rage so early in the semester; it usually took a few weeks for the papers he got to mark to be that bad.  
Looking across the room, though, Logan was standing up, hands flat on the table, staring at a single sheet of paper on the table in front of him. A few seconds, and he had grabbed the guy sitting next to him and stormed out.

Thomas decided that this turn of events was worth investigating. What could possibly motivate Logic to burst out like that in such a busy location? Besides, while he didn’t recognize whoever had been dragged off, Thomas couldn’t help but feel bad for whoever was on the receiving end of a falsehood-tirade.  
Once outside the cafeteria, Thomas managed to catch a glimpse of whoever Logan was dragging, as he was pulled into the elevator. As the doors closed, Thomas managed to get in too. Once there, he saw that the seven was lit up.

“Wait,” he said,”Aren’t the upper floors closed to students this late?”

Logan quickly turned his head, just now noticing that Thomas had gotten in, saying “They’re closed to you.”

“I could go…” Thomas tentatively reached for the 5, to get off earlier.

“No, come with us.” This was the guy that Logan had been dragging behind him. He was wearing a light blue shirt with a cardigan tied over her shoulders as he smiled kindly around Logan. “We have special permission to go to the Makerspace, and it looks really cool at night. I’m Patton, by the way.”

“Thomas Sanders.” said Thomas, awkwardly reaching around Logan to shake hands. Logan adjusted his tie and very deliberately looked away from them, towards the door. The remaining twenty second of the elevator ride were the longest twenty seconds of Thomas’ life.

*Ding skwoatch!*; the sound of the door opening signalled the same joy of freedom for Thomas that the last bell of school instills in a nine-year-old. He stumbled out, ready to gasp for air before he realized that awkwardness can’t actually stop your breathing. He paused, having never been on this floor, and looked to Logan for some hint of what was going on. The quelling glare he received as an answer froze him just outside the elevator.

Logan and Patton calmly exited the elevator, Logan explaining, “This is very classified. You should not be here, but since you are, you must promise to take no photos, tell no one about this, and NEVER publish anything to do with what is about to happen without the express permission of both the Toronto police Department and Campus Security.”

“What is about to happen?” Thomas wondered, as he began trailing behind the two other boys.

“There’s going to be a heist and Logan’s going to stop it”, Patton eagerly replied.

“Heist? Like on TV? How---” Thomas’s frantic questioning had been getting louder as they approached the door to the Makerspace, and a crash from within interrupted him. It came from inside the room, and all three boys began running to investigate. Once inside, the saw a broken window. Before even Logic could process the situation, a masked individual in a prince costume climbed through the window.

“---just jumped out a seventh story window! Who does… that…” they trailed off, seeing Thomas.

“Prince, you’re here, good. I take it you also received the memorandum” Logan’s voice curled around the last word as though he was trying to crush it as he vocalized it.

“I did!” Prince replied straightening himself out.

Thomas finally caught his mouth up to his brain and choked out “Ha-how did you get up? What happened to? Memorandum?”  
…  
WHAT THE HELL!?!?!  
“If you were unaware, a memorandum is a written message.”

“I know what a memo is, I just want to know what it’s for!”

“You’ll see.” That was…. Not the answer Thomas wanted to hear. Why was everyone being so cryptic about this? 

“Guys, it’s almost time.” Patton said, gesturing to his watch. He gave Thomas a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything later.” 

As Thomas watched, Logan and ‘Prince’ appeared to assume some kind of battle positions. Suddenly he felt like he was in the middle of something he really shouldn’t be in the middle of. Thomas was about to ask if he could leave when the lights shut off. He shrieked.

“Quiet!” Logan shushed. The three of them fell into an uneasy silence. Then, from the corner of the room, a small thump resounded. 

“Found you!” ‘Prince’ shouted, and suddenly Thomas could hear sounds of a scuffle. Just as suddenly as they had gone out, the lights turned back on. Apparently Patton had found the light switch. That wasn’t what Thomas focussed on though. No, his focus was entirely on the center of the room, where ‘Prince’ appeared to be trying to fight someone clad in black and purple, who, like Prince, also appeared to be wearing a mask. They also had a hood that was covering their head.

“Who the hell is that?” Thomas asked, but his question went unanswered as the others focussed entirely on the fight. Thomas watched in awe as the black clad person flipped over top of Prince’s head, landing beside the 3D carving machine. They stuck their hand right into the pile of plastic shavings. What could they possibly want to do with those? Thomas’s confusion quickly upgraded to complete shock, as some of the plastic shavings suddenly began to float. The person pointed the floating shavings at the Prince, and forcefully flung them at him. Prince responded to this action by lifting the nearby 60 pound metal table like it was nothing and using it to block the flying projectiles.

“WHAT?” Thomas shouted, accidentally drawing attention to himself from both Prince and the person dressed in black. Thomas suddenly felt threatened, but nothing happened to him. Instead, the person used the distraction Thomas had provided to run forward and grab something off the table in the middle of the room. Once they had this object, they ran towards the open window.

“Thanks for leaving me an exit Princey!” They shouted, before jumping out. 

“Get back here you Emo Nightmare!” Prince shouted, before following the unknown person out the window. Patton ran over to the window and stared out, looking for the two of them. He turned and shook his head at Logan.

“They’re gone.” He said. Logan looked mad, but Thomas just gapped as he took in the scene of destruction in front of him, trying to process everything that had just happened .

“What the hell?!”


	2. Heroes, Thieves, Mysteries (and Logan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was all written by my friend.  
> (The chapter title can be acronymed to html)

Logan was frustrated. This was as close as he had ever been to the so-called hero, and to the thief, and the entire encounter had been ruined by Thomas Sanders, whoever that was. Patton truly was out of his mind, wasn’t he? Did he not realize that someone out of the loop would spend the entire encounter shouting “WHAAAAT” like some sort of imbecile, ruining the perfect Logic concentration Logan was so famous for?

Well, Logan knew that there was nothing to be done now but investigate. Patton would be better to ease the newcomer in; he was so much better at that emotional stuff. Logan sighed, and got out his kit. First, the notepad, to record everything he could currently remember about the fight while it was still fresh.

“Are you a journalist? I thought you were taking law!” Thomas, again!

“No, I’m not a journalist. I am an investigator, and detailed memorandums aid in my reflection on the case at later times.” Logan responded, finishing the account with an uncharacteristic flourish. Putting the pen back into the coils of the notebook, Logan then reached into his bag for a roll of packing tape. He had seen the thief put his bare hand flat in that pile of plastic shavings near the 3-D carving machine. There had to be fingerprints. But when he approached the pile, the shavings were arranged not in an incriminating fingerprint, but in the way that metal shavings will disperse when a magnet is put near them.

The hope and certainty that had filled Logan’s mind fled like rats from a sinking ship. The heist notice from earlier filled his mind: “I am coming again today. I will be stealing from the Makerspace tonight at 10:45 pm. You will not catch me tonight. You will not catch me next time. You will never catch me. You will never find out who I am. Yours, Knightmare.”

Logan burst out of the room, to angry to wait for Patton, never mind whoever this Thomas person was. The heist notice swam louder and larger in his head, drowning out all other thought, and even physical sensation. He barely succeeded in fumbling with the elevator enough to get inside, and press the button for the ground floor. Maybe the others got in? Did it matter? They weren’t going to solve this mystery.

The rage inside Logan’s head began to mix with fear as he considered what he would report to the police tonight. They had entrusted him, a student, with this investigation. His unprecedented situation was precarious at best. He had been hired to solve this case. Hired because the police couldn’t deny that he was an effective investigator despite his age and relative lack of experience. What would happen when he told them he had no new leads? How could he prove himself to be useful when he wasn---

Logan’s thought was interrupted by an abrupt collision with two other students having an intense discussion in the middle of the hallway. One was wearing a large black hoodie that removed any evidence of build, height or gender from their form. The other was wearing all white; tight jeans and an intensely starched t-shirt, both of which emphasized to the maximum possible degree the manhood and height of the wearer. Strangely, the collision of an intensely angry graduate student had no effect on their conversation. The man in white was not jostled at all, and the person in all black paid no attention to the force being exerted on their body.

“Even so, he didn’t know I was there, why would Deceit--” The man in white continued the argument as if nothing had happened.

“You know that’s not his name.” Interrupted the hooded figure.

“Why would Dece--”

“His name is Doucette. It’s a perfectly normal last name.”

“But the deceitful snake won’t even tell us his first name, why should we trust him?”

Logan decided it was time to but in, “Excuse me, are you talking about Doucette, the Makerspace attendant?”

Both figures turned abruptly to face him. The behoodied figured curled in on themself, while the man in white straightened up. Logan was surprised to see that not only were they both men but that they had the same haircut, and almost the same face. He blinked a bit at the resemblance, but caught himself as the man in white’s hand came out to shake.

“Greetings, my name is Lucien Romanov, but I prefer to be called Roman. This is my friend Virgil Angel, and you can call him whatever you want.”

Logan shook, and refocused on the matter at hand. “Were you or were you not talking about Doucette, the Makerspace attendant?”

Virgil answered quickly, “Yes, we saw him jump, and we were worried. We were on our way up, but we had forgotten that we couldn’t get all the way up there this late.”

“We saw Prince catch him, and we wanted to know what our friend had to do with superheroes” Roman said with a broad smile.

The length of the three boy’s conversation had been enough for Patton and Thomas to call the elevator and ride it down, and they both emerged in time to hear Roman’s last sentence.

“You knew there were superheroes or whatever at this school!?” Thomas asked incredulously. “I’m Thomas, by the way."

“Virgil, Roman.” said Roman, absently gesturing between himself and Virgil. “Well, I’d heard the rumors. No one really knows much, just that everyone thinks the things that go missing from the science labs must be connected.”

“People KNOW this and they DON’T want find out MORE?” Stress was beginning to etch itself onto Thomas’s face, as well as Patton’s and Virgil’s.

“I do,” said Virgil quietly while Patton exclaimed “Logan will figure it out.”

Logan also tried to deescalate the situation, saying “Thomas, don’t worry, I will catch Knightmare. Roman, Virgil, officially, those rumors are false, and the police would appreciate you not spreading them. Patton, give these three the rundown of the situation. All three of you remember, this is classified police business, and there is nothing for you to do but keep it under wraps. I need to go report to the police.”

Logan pushed past Virgil, now with renewed desire to report; he had new information. As he walked, he ran it over in his head:

The secret was getting out; the police would have to invest more in keeping the supernatural at the school a secret, or else make an announcement.

There might be more people involved in this than had been previously assumed; the makerspace attendant was acting out of character according to Virgil and Roman, and checking through his notepad, it looked like Prince knew why.

He didn’t have a third fact. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

As this thought crossed his mind, he walked through the door to the police station. A pad of paper was shoved in his face: “There you are. Just write it down this time.” They didn’t have time to talk to him, he supposed. No time to talk to the failure of a supposedly genius investigator that has nothing to say. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Logan walked out of the police station, dejected. He didn’t feel like someone anyone would call “Logic” in the begrudgingly admiring tone he was used to. He needed someone to talk to, to sort all of this out. Patton. Yes, he would go see Patton.

As Logan walked into the random classroom Patton had texted to say he was in, his mood sank even further. Thomas, Virgil and Roman were still there. Patton should have debriefed them by now. Unless… 

“Please tell me you haven’t decided to try investigating Knightmare and Prince yourself.”

“We started a Journalism club, and we’re going to investigate stories of special interest to U of T students… things like Knightmare and Prince,” said Patton timidly. “I had hoped you might appreciate the help.”

“Knightmare and Prince are classified topics, your club will have to focus on something else,” Logan replied, realizing that his protests were going to end up being useless.

“Don’t worry Logan,” said Patton “Even though the club will only be investigating Prince and Knightmare, we won’t publish anything, and we won’t recruit anyone.”

“That’s not a club.”

“But it could work,” said Thomas, and the desperate assurance in his voice reached out through the room like aerosol confidence.

“It’s worth a shot,” said Logan.


	3. We Did A Journalism! (Seven School Mysteries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter, and it's entirely filler. Stuff gets a lot more serious in the next chapter though.

“It’s been two weeks. And we haven’t investigated anything.” Thomas said, laying with his head resting on top of his arms on a table.

“And who’s fault would that be?” Logan asked, setting down his Sherlock Holmes novel. Thomas contemplated the question, before shrugging. Patton chose this moment to speak up.

“Y’know, we don’t have to only investigate the hero and the thief. We could just investigate something else.” He suggested.

“And what do you suppose we investigate? There’s nothing interesting happening.” Thomas said. 

“We could always look into the seven school mysteries.” Virgil chimed in, causing the attention in the room to shift to him. Not liking all the eyes on him, he shyed into his hoodie more. 

“Why, that’s a grand idea Virgil! We could also have it be a test of courage!” Roman said, posing in the way only a drama kid could. Virgil glared at him.

“No tests of courage. Do you remember what happened last time?” He said, causing Roman to deflate a little. 

“Wait, we have seven school mysteries?” Thomas asked, very confused as he had never heard of any such thing in the school. 

“Of course Thomas. Although, if I may say, they are all rather stupid.” Logan said, “Though, I would be interested in looking into a few of them.”

“So is this what we’re gonna do?” Patton asked. The others shrugged.

“Guess so.”

And thus plans were made. The four of them decided that tonight they would go into the school and investigate the myths. They decided to meet up in front of the library at 11 pm.

~11 PM~  
“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.” Patton said, more than a little nervous about how dark it had gotten.

“Nonsense Patton! This will be fun!” Roman proclaimed. Virgil elbowed him, getting a glare in response.

“So what myth are we investigating first?” Thomas asked, rearing and ready to investigate. Virgil held up a piece of paper.

“Here’s a list.” He said, handing it over to Logan. Logan skimmed the contents and nodded. 

“Okay, first stop, the science lab.” He said, and led them off in that direction.

1) The science room’s moving skeleton.

“Well this one is rather easy to explain.” Logan said, “There’s probably an air current running through here, which causes the skeleton to move.”   
Thomas jotted that fact down in his note book, and took a picture of the skeleton, before the group moved on to the next one.

2) The Giant Spider of Classroom 203

“Can we uh, not do this one?” Patton asked, “I don’t like spiders.” 

“Don’t worry Patton, it’s probably just a shadow on the wall.” Logan said. Patton looked doubtful, but still followed the others into the classroom.

“I don’t see anything that looks like a spider.” Thomas said, standing in the center of the room. Virgil snorted.

“That’s cause you aren’t looking hard enough.” He said, pointing at something on the ceiling. The others looked up at the ceiling, and Patton shrieked. 

“It’s just a painting Patton.”

“It’s still a spider!”

3) The Crying Statue

“I mean, I’d cry if I was stuck as a statue in a university for the rest of my life.”

“Virgil we’re trying to have a serious investigation.” Thomas said.

“What part of this investigation is in any way serious?” Virgil responded. The group had found themselves in one of the math classrooms, staring at the bust of some important dude or whatever.

“It doesn’t really look like it’s crying.” Roman said, hesitantly poking the statue with his finger.

“That’s because it isn’t raining.” Logan said. The others stared at him in confusion, causing him to sigh.

“There’s a leak in ceiling. Whenever it rains the water drips down onto the statue, making it look like it’s crying.” He explained. The others ‘oh’ed in response.

4) The Piano That Plays Itself

“Do you suppose I could get it to play Welcome to the Black Parade for me?” 

“Virgil!” 

“Fine, but it’s literally just what it says.” Virgil said, “It’s a self playing piano. The school bought it a while ago, but nobody noticed it had replaced the old one, so it freaked a lot of people out.”

“If you already knew the answer to this one, why still put it down as a mystery?” Thomas asked. Virgil shrugged.

“Tradition I guess? I mean, what’s a seven school mysteries investigation without a self playing instrument.”

5) The Wailing Corridor

“It’s just the sound of the water pipes.”

“Y’know what Logan? You’re a real downer.”

“Thanks I try.”

6) The Bleeding Painting

“Wow that. Really looks like blood.” Thomas said, looking a little faint as the group stared at the painting. Patton looked a little pale.

“Logan? You got an explanation for this one?” Thomas asked. Roman butted in before the genius could answer though.

“Actually, I know the answer for this one.” Roman said, “The teachers here sometimes like to pull pranks on the students using the seven school mysteries. That right there on the painting is nail polish.”

“Are they allowed to do that?”

“I actually don’t know.”

7) The Ghost of Floor 2

“Okay guys, this is the last one.” Virgil said. The group stared down the hallway. There was nothing there but darkness.

“I don’t see anything.” Thomas said. 

“Someone probably just had their mind play tricks on it.” Logan said, “Can we go to bed now?”

“I mean, I guess.” Thomas said, “At least now we have something to show for our investigation club.”

The group turned and left, nobody but Roman and Virgil noticing the figure that snuck out of the hallway and ran to the student dorms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough* deceitistheghostonfloor2 *cough*


	4. Of Trauma and Eels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has mild descriptions of the abuse and neglect of children. Plot- necessary details will be implied in later chapters, and summarized in Chapter nine for readers who are not comfortable reading this chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter was written by my friend, as she is much better at this stuff in writing than I am.

Virgil’s last name was Angel. He was very happy about this; he was like the angels from the stories. His Mom would read to him every night about them, the angels. Every night she would whisper in his ear, “Goodnight, my little Angel.” Virgil held his blanket up to his chin, slept, and was happy.

Virgil’s fourth birthday party was small. The paper angels on the walls smiled. The paper angels in his family’s hearts smiled. The angel in his soul smiled. Virgil smiled, ate his cupcake, and was happy.

The next day, Virgil woke up in a strange place. His mother was not there. There was a man, though, and he was dressed like a doctor. He had the necklace that could listen to Virgil’s heart around his neck, and the bracelet that could feel it wrapped around Virgil’s arm. It was tight, but it didn’t really hurt.

“Where is Mom?” asked Virgil. He looked at the doctor attentively.

“She let you stay here for the week. She’ll be back on Friday to pick you up,” the doctor replied. “In the meantime, we’re going to take care of you. We’re going to need an angel’s help with this project. We want to find out more about this guy, Sandy the Eel.”

“What’s your name, doctor?”

Virgil didn’t hear the answer to his question. He saw Sandy, and he was beautiful. He felt a tug in his arm, and everything was smaller, blurry, and beautiful. Virgil smiled, felt the angel in his soul go to sleep, and was happy.

“The CRISPR is working.” heard Virgil. Everything was blue and red and wrong and it hurt and the angel in his soul was crying. Where was Mom? Why did she want this?

“I want my Mom,” he said.

“Your Mom wants you here, helping us,” came the absent-minded reply.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s miraculous! Sandy’s DNA is actually integrating with his without us controlling it. It doesn’t look like we’ll have to control the integration. See, it’s all bonding to the genes dictating his nervous system. Does that mean it has something to do with the brain? Eels have a brain, I guess, but it’s less developed… this would be redundant, but it doesn’t look like it. What does an eel’s nervous system have? They’re so primitive. Call the mother, offer her another grand or so, I want to keep him longer for observation, this one might be harder to suss out.”

Virgil did not understand the answer. The angel in his soul didn’t either. Virgil had no one else to ask. He looked for Sandy, failed, and slept. There was nothing else to do, he was tired.

Virgil’s last name was Angel. No one seemed to know, no one called him anything but kid. The doctor would test him every night. He would hurt him, and Virgil would cry, and the Doctor would get upset, “Responses still normal. I guess it really is redundant junk.” Virgil held his blanket up to his chin, slept, and the angel in his soul went to hide until it was over.  
~-~-~  
Lucien’s parents were scientists. He liked going to school because his parents said that going to school was how you became a scientist. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a scientist a prince, or a knight. He asked his parents, and they said that a scientist was like a knight, but better; they could save people, but they didn’t have to hurt anyone to do it.

“What about a prince?” Lucien asked.

“Sorry Lucien,” his mother said, rubbing the top of his head. “I’m not the Queen, so you can’t be a prince. But hey, if you still like that kind of thing, remember, our last name is Romanov. It means ‘of Rome’, the society on which all of the greatest princes modelled their kingdoms.”

Lucien decided that he would tell all his friends to call him Roman now, instead of Lucien. It was a much better name.

The next month, on his seventh birthday, the cake read “Roman” instead of “Lucien” like all the other cakes had. All of his friends had come. They called him Roman too. When he opened all of his presents, the tags said Roman too. Roman like the presents well enough, but he really liked more that everyone was calling him by the name he liked.

One day, Roman asked his parents “What do you do at work?”

“We’re working more and more about eel DNA. See, we can look at it, but we don’t really know how to read it. But the cells in living things can read it, so we’re putting it in young animals to see what happens. It’s sort of like their cells telling us want the DNA reads,” his father replied kindly.

“What kind of animals?” asked Roman.

“Well, as many as we can. We use mice, and lizards, and even some human volunteers.”

“Could I help?” asked Roman.

“Sure,” said his mother. “It would be kind of like an adventure.”

Roman was very excited to go to the lab. He liked the eel, it was named Sandy. The doctors were very nice to him, and answered all his questions. It didn’t seem like anything happened, though, when they used the CRISPR, whatever that was. His mom said that was normal though, because the only DNA they were using was “junk DNA”, that didn’t do anything in the eel, as far as they could tell.

Roman really liked it, even though nothing happened. It felt good to help people, especially his parents. He loved his parents, they were nice.


	5. Steal From the Rich: Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was also written by my friend and honestly, she did a great job on this wow.

Roman hesitated as he stared at the message on his screen. The cursor blinked relentlessly, taunting him with the passage of time.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
| From: knightmare@electophorum.ca |  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
| To: officeofthechief@torontopolice.on.ca |  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
| Bcc: prince@electophorum.ca |  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
| Subject: I’m back! |  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
| 7:23, February 11 2019 |  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
| |  
| To those that would try to stop me, |  
| you have not succeeded. I am still here. I will be at |  
| the president’s office tonight at 9:30, and no matter what you do, I will leave better off than |  
| I came in. You won’t catch me. You won’t stop me. I will always be the one you couldn’t stop. |   
| |  
| Yours, |  
| Knightmare | | | |  
|___________________________________________________________________________|

Agreeing to this investigation club thing had obviously been a terrible plan. They weren’t giving up on investigating Knightmare and Prince no matter how long he stayed dormant, so it was time to act. But was it really the right thing to do? The send button continued to taunt Roman as he pondered. All he wanted was to ask Virgil. They spoke about everything, but not this. He couldn’t ask Virgil about this.

Curses be laid on it! He hit send with a vengeance, as if his mouse had insulted his mother.

After an hour and change it was time to get ready. He had documents to steal. Walking up to the closet he shared with his roommate, Roman carefully extracted the false back and extricated the black hoodie, dark pants, and mask from the secret compartment. As quickly as he could, he hid them in a gym bag and replaced the false panel. At the last minute he went into the bathroom to grab his roommate’s black eyeshadow. They wouldn’t miss it for one night.

Roman instantly regretted not having already found a place near the president’s office to stash his clothes. Well, too late now. Quickly, he stepped into a bathroom. Score! The ceiling tile were the kind that push up, to make room for pipes and such above them. He could rest his stuff above one of the stalls, just as long as no one was in the restroom while he was doing it.

As soon as Roman was changed, someone walked in. It was Virgil, carrying a gym bag of his own. Well, he wasn’t going to wait for his friend to be done in here. Careful so that he wouldn’t be seen or heard, he snuck out of the bathroom. A push-up tile in a random room down the hallway was going to have to do. Hopefully it wouldn’t get locked.

Knightmare was ready, and hid himself carefully for the remaining 20-some minutes until 9:30. He considered that he might have been a bit hasty in getting changed. Oh, well, he thought, settling in for the wait. After a minute or so, he jumped as his phone rang. After checking it, he saw it was Thomas. Right, the investigation club thing. Did Thomas really expect him to come to every investigation? Well, no use in denying the man. Roman picked up.

“Theresgoingtobaannotherheistinliketwentyminutescanyougettothepresidentsofficenow?” asked Thomas.

“What?” replied Roman in a hushed tone.

“Another heist,” Thomas said, breathless. “At the president’s office. Can you come? It’s in, like, twenty minutes.”

“Sorry,” said Roman, kicking himself for not thinking of this. “I have… a paper due that I didn’t start until this morning? I had thought the hero stuff was over, since they haven’t done anything in three weeks.”

“Oh well,” sighed Thomas, hanging up. The rest of Knightmare’s wait went slowly, as he turned over the myriad ways he was likely to get caught with so many more etes now on the case. This was a bad idea, after all.

9:30 came, and it was time to act. He placed his palm flat on the metal door handle, and the door exploded inward. Knightmare stepped back with the recoil. Now, those files. They wouldn’t be on the computer. He looked around the room. Behind the desk the President was staring dubiously at Logan, who was standing with his hands on the desk. As Knightmare watched, Logic turned around, and gestured at the masked figure, as if to say “I told you so”. Thomas and Patton were probably here too, yes, there in the corner, in front of a bookshelf crammed with binders. Maybe there? No, too obvious. 

Think, thought Roman. The files would be hidden somewhere where additional security would be merited. A hidden safe? Looking around the room, Knightmare finally spotted a case built into the wall that seemed to contain memorabilia. Some class rings from various prestigious universities across Canada, and even a certificate of honorary professorship at some ivy league… there! Dog tags, hung at the back. They could easily contain a flash drive, and hidden as they were, that flash drive would be a total secret. Now, to get it. Knightmare stepped towards the case, but a pen, flung at immense speed, caught in his hoodie, pinning his arm to the wall next to the case.

Knightmare turned his head with his most disturbing, gleeful smile. He paused, then cocked his head to the side. “Prince,” he hissed. “You came.”

“I had thought you had gone underground,” said Prince, eyes dark under his white mask.

“Well,” Knightmare replied. As he spoke, he pushed his arm up against the pen. “I just couldn’t think when such beautiful jewels were sitting out here in someone else’s room.”

The pen shattered, black ink saturating the black sleeve. He ran at Prince just as Prince ran at him. They collided just in front of the case. After a brief exchange of blows, Knightmare was able to grab Prince’s arm, and use their combined momentum to force their entwined fists through the lock. Immediately after impact, the shards spread away from their fists unnaturally, not landing anywhere near the white and black gloves.

The black glove released first as Knightmare’s hand darted to the back of the case to grab the dog tags. As an afterthought, on the way out came a bejeweled class ring. As the black glove moved towards the pocket of the hoodie to secure its goods, so too came the white glove.

“Not today,” whispered Prince as he pushed at the metal objects in Knightmare’s fist. They slipped out easily into Prince’s other hand.

Roman raised his chin defiantly. “You still haven’t caught me.” He ran to the second story window. This was going to hurt. Well, nothing to do for it, Prince had won this time. He jumped.

Through the shattered window, he heard Prince call to Logan and the others, “Don’t worry, I’ll get him.” Then Roman felt a weight at his back. White-clad arms reached around him, holding a heavy metal plate.

“No use us dying,” said Prince into his ear. Roman smiled ruefully as both he and his rival pushed their palms flat to the disk and pushed with enough force to send the plate careening to the ground. The recoil slowed their fall enough to prevent serious injury.

On the ground, both masked figures recovered a moment. Then, together they stood up, brushed themselves off, and faced each other, shoulders back.

“You’re not going to catch me,” Roman fought to keep the questioning note out of Knightmare’s voice. Even if he hadn’t succeeded, Logic probably wouldn’t hear from all the way up there. Prince paused a moment, then his face crumpled in what appeared to be pain. His hand, still with the dog tags in it went to his side, presumably injured in the fall. Roman took advantage and ran. As he did, he heard Prince escape in the other direction. Even heroes have to lie, Roman thought as he ran.

Returning to the building surreptitiously, Roman found his clothes undisturbed. However, when he went to the door he saw Virgil, Thomas, Patton and Logan discussing the fight. Darn, he was supposedly madly writing a paper, and obviously couldn’t be seen here. He decided to listen.

“Knightmare really gives me the creeps,” Thomas was saying.

“On some days Prince does too,” Patton added.

“Did you notice how he only left the ring for us? Makes me question whose side he’s really on,” Logan grumbled.

“Hey,” said Patton. “Maybe that was all he was able to get away from Knightmare. You saw him, he was hurt, in no condition to be chasing after some slimy thief. He may be creepy, but that doesn’t make him evil.”

Virgil remained quiet as they turned the corner. Roman sighed in relief. He hadn’t been noticed. He walked slowly back to the apartment he shared with Virgil. With sudden inspiration, he stopped by the library to print of a paper from the previous semester, in case someone in the investigation club saw him and asked questions. After the detour he dragged his feet home. His ribs hurt, since he had taken the brunt of the fall.

When he arrived at the apartment, he saw Virgil on his laptop. He looked up as Roman came in, then asked somewhat sarcastically “Done your paper?”

“Yes,” replied Roman, not wanting to talk to his friend after tonight. He felt like a ‘slimy thief’ as Patton had called him. 

“Well,” said Virgil, pulling something out of the USB part on his computer and slipping it quickly into his pocket. “I have to return something to a friend.”

As Virgil walked out of the room, Roman looked at his friend’s bed. The laptop was still open, with a folder named “Unprocessed” fullscreen in the file manager. Roman felt somewhat better as he thought on the day. No one had been hurt, and even if he had lost the fight, he would find that file, and expose to the public what needed to be seen.


	6. Wholesome (Bread) Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, I'm mostly writing the filler chapters of this fic. Also, it's family day here in Canada, which is why they're celebrating it in this chapter. Also I feel like everyone reading this should know that we scheduled this entire fic based on today's date, just so this could be uploaded on this day.

When Patton found out that none of the others where going to be able to spend Family day with their families, well, let’s just say he panicked. No one should have to spend such an important day all alone! And so, he invited them all over to his house.

Maybe he should’ve thought through his decision a bit more.

“It’s not my fault I didn’t pick up a pizza!” Roman yelled. Virgil and Logan, who were sitting on the living room floor next to him, both gave him looks of doubt. Patton sighed from where he stood in the kitchen, waiting for Thomas to arrive.

Somehow, none of them had brought food. And it just so happened that Patton’s fridge had somehow become mysteriously devoid of a meal large enough for all five of them. This was a problem, as it was starting to get a bit late and none of them had eaten. 

Patton was just beginning to consider getting take out when the doorbell rang. 

“Coming!” He yelled, and he ran over and opened the door, revealing Thomas, who was standing there with a plastic bag. “Thomas! Please tell me you brought some food!” 

“Uh, I brought Crofter’s?” 

All noise from the living room suddenly came to a stop as three pairs of eyes turned to gaze intensely at Thomas. Thomas almost walked back out the door, but Patton grabbed his hand and pulled him in, setting the bag of jam on the table.

“Guess we’re having toast with jam for supper!” He said. As the others came to the table, none of them noticed how it suddenly started to snow.  
“So, I take it you guys like Crofter’s too?” Thomas asked. 

“It’s pretty much the only jam Logan will eat.” Patton said. Logan made a noise of agreement, not bothering to join in the conversation as he spread jam on his toast while he read his notes on Prince and Knightmare. Patton didn’t bother asking him to put the notes away, knowing that Logan was in the middle of some big discovery.

“It’s one of the only foods me and Virgil agree on.” Roman chimed in, “We argue about most other foods.”

“That’s because you’re a heathen who eats pineapple on pizza.” Virgil said.

“What, it’s good!”

The two were stopped from going into a deeper argument by the flickering of the lights. Simultaneously, everyone turned and looked out the window, to find what had to be a blizzard storming outside.

“Uhh, I don’t think I can leave in that.” Thomas said. Logan nodded.

“Agreed. If this does not let up within the next hour or so, I believe we may be stuck here.” He said.

They hoped it would let up.  
~  
It did not let up.

“What are we gonna do now!” Virgil groaned, dangling upside down on the couch, “We’re stuck!”

“I guess you’ll have to stay the night?” Patton said, causing everyone in the living room to groan again.

“I didn’t bring pyjama’s!” Thomas said, “How are we supposed to sleep?”

“I have some extra onesies in my bedroom that should probably fit all of you.” Patton said, “We are all about the same size right?” 

The room was silent, which Patton took as a yes, so he went to get the onesies. He gave Roman a dragon onesie, Virgil a bat onesie, Thomas a dog onesie, and Logan a unicorn onesie.

“Why do I get the unicorn?” Logan asked.

“Because it’s the only one I have left.” Patton answered, already dressed in his cat onesie.   
“Fine.” Logan sighed, and got changed.

After everyone was changed, Patton put in Super Smash Bros, which the five of them played until Virgil fell asleep, prompting everyone else to start getting ready for bed. 

Patton was the last to fall asleep, having got out blankets and pillows for everyone else. Despite the whole “only bread and jam for supper” and “we’re snowed in” aspects of the night, overall, he felt that everyone had a good time.

Before he fell asleep, he wondered if Knightmare and Prince had spent the day and had a good time with their families as well.


	7. How To Hide From A Journalist; A Guide By Doucette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another filler (which means it's written by me), and is kinda short because of that. Sorry! But, the next chapter will have much more plot.
> 
> This is a Deceit focussed chapter, so if you don't like him, you don't have to read this, as it's not important to the plot.

When Doucette realized he was going to be rooming with Thomas Sanders of all people, he immediately promised himself that he would never, ever, let Thomas actually see him. And so far, he has been doing a fairly good job at keeping himself hidden, if he did say so himself.

Of course, there were totally not a few close calls……

The first close call happened one day during lunch. Doucette had been walking into the cafeteria, figuring that Thomas would have probably left already, so he could go and join Virgil at his table. So he absolutely wasn’t surprised when he noticed that Thomas was only just now heading towards the doors to leave. Said doors just happened to be where Doucette was standing.

Thomas hadn’t noticed him standing there yet, but Doucette knew he would if he just kept standing there like an idiot. But he was so panicked he couldn’t think. So, he let instinct take over.

He ended up hiding in the trash can.

He managed to avoid Thomas, but Virgil teased about hiding in the trash for a week. 

The second close call happened after school. Doucette and Roman where in the library, doing some research, when Thomas walked in. This caused Doucette to panic, as he was in plain sight, and he tried to run and hide, only to knock over a bookshelf. Thankfully Roman stopped the shelf from falling all the way, which kept it from making any loud noises, and he also managed to hide Doucette at the same time. 

Doucette was safe from being discovered, but now he owes Roman another favor.

The third incident was much more recent, and was a bit too close for comfort. Doucette had been in the makerspace, setting things up. He knew that Logan and Patton would be coming soon to investigate, and he wanted to make sure everything was ready before then. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Thomas’s voice coming from down the hall. 

Doucette immediately began to panic, knowing that there was nowhere he could possibly hide right now. And then he spotted the window. Not giving himself time to think about it, he ran forward and jumped through it, breaking the glass. He gave a little hiss of pain as a shard of glass scraped his cheek.

It was only when he was in midair that he remembered that there was not going to be a soft landing. 

On the upside, Prince was there to catch him. On the downside, now he owed him another favor.


	8. Strong Eels and Magnetic Fields

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back! Me and my friend had to leave for March Break, which is why there was no update last week. Anyways, this chapter was written by my friend, who also provided the following warning:  
> 'Trigger warning: References to childhood trauma/ abuse/ neglect. No graphic detail included. All plot-relevant content will be summarized in chapter 13.'

For Roman, it had been three years since he had helped his parents with their experiments. They explained that the reason that nothing had happened was not because the experiment had gone wrong, or that Roman had done anything wrong, but that the DNA they had added to his had no actual function. Junk DNA. Roman still felt sad about it sometimes, because he had hoped it would be an adventure. But he was in grade four now, and had more important problems. Like gym class.

Roman knew gym class would have been important for the knights in his favourite stories. They had to be strong enough to ride horses for weeks on end, or climb towers, or fight rogue knights. Roman, on the other hand was going to be an actor, to embody his favourite heroes or a scientist, to be a modern-day hero like his parents. Nowadays, violence and strength weren’t important. So why did he have to do wind sprints?

Today, they were doing gymnastics. The gym teacher had set out big heavy mats, and they were supposed to be trying to do teddy-bear stands in them. “Put both hands on the mat, one on each side of your head. Then put your head on the mat to make a triangle,” the teacher said, demonstrating. “Then… oumph… put your knees on your bent elbows and balance.” The teacher fell over.

Roman did not see how this was important in any way. None of the others kids were doing it; Virgil Angel couldn’t even get his feet more than ten centimetres off the ground before his hands slipped out from under him. Roman would have the same amount of success if he didn’t try, and this way he could keep reading the screen play of The Princess Bride, his favourite movie. Much more could be learned from the writing of that film than from teddy-bear stands, in Roman’s opinion.

Unfortunately, Roman’s gym teacher did not share the same opinion. Roman had his book taken away from him, and was forced over to the mats. But he was not about to participate. He crossed his arms saying “No, I won’t.” When his gym teacher kept talking, trying to cajole him into action, Roman got mad. He kicked at the mat. It went flying. All the kids on it that had managed to get themselves balanced fell over. Virgil Angel fell on the floor. One of Roman’s classmates had fallen to the edge of the mat as it collided with the wall. He hit his head so hard that he missed school for a almost a week, and when he got back, he wore sunglasses and didn’t sit with everyone else at lunch. Roman decided that maybe there was some value in following the rules, after all. This never would have happened if he had just done the stupid teddy-bear stand.

That summer, Roman and his family were on vacation at their summer home on Grand Lake, New Brunswick. Roman knew that no one really lived in New Brunswick, nor was there anything interesting to do there. Bored out of his mind, he remembered that time in gym class the previous spring. When he had kicked the mat, it had gone so much further than it ought to have. Hew decided to take advantage of the plentiful trees of the green province to hide himself as he investigated his newfound strength.

Once hidden deep enough in the woods, Roman got to work. He lifted entire tree trunks. He pushed over a tree. This was awesome! Had he always been able to do this? Wait, those experiments! Not junk DNA after all, he thought smugly. The downside was, though, there wasn’t really a good way to use these powers.

~-~-~

Virgil did not know what was going on. He couldn’t hold things; after a few seconds they slipped out of his hands. It took him until grade three to write his first letter, because that’s when he realized he could put his index finger on the top of the pencil to keep it from slipping out. It was against everything his teachers had told him about writing properly, though. Rules were obviously completely useless, weren’t they? The only way he could even kind of fit in was if he broke them, even just a little. But when he did break the rules, he could manage.

In ninth grade, Virgil finally figured out what on earth was going on. He was in science class, and the teacher was explaining the idea of static charge.

“Charged objects attract neutral objects when they are close together,” said the teacher. Virgil looked up quickly. Looking surreptitiously around he placed his pencil carefully on the edge of his desk. He held his hand about 3 centimeters above it. As he concentrated on the thought of his hand, the pencil jumped up into it.

“Objects of the same charge will repel each other.” Virgil had flipped his hand as he had felt the flow from his hand to the pencil. The pencil, now above his hand, was floating, maybe half a centimeter above the surface of his palm.

“Objects of opposite charges attract. Now, touching two objects together is not the only way to transfer charge. Charging by induction even lets you charge an object oppositely to the original charged object.” Hearing this, Virgil immediately lost the thought of his hand. The pencil fell back down, and he felt the material of his thin t-shirt lift a subtle quarter-millimeter off his back.

Now that he knew what these powers stupid Sandy the eel had given him were, he could use them. Experiments on children like the one he had been a part of were wrong. He just needed to get evidence out into the public eye that they had happened, and the repercussions would follow on their own. If he could just steal it…

A few weeks of practice and under-the-radar sewing later, Virgil had an epic name, a costume (mask included), a plan, and enough skill to hopefully pull it off. When he dragged himself home, he grumbled that he would have had it if he had known that there was going to be an idiot dressed as a prince with some sort of super-strength trying to stop him.


	9. Now That's Just Lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was written by me. I've also realized that most people probably won't understand why the chapter is named as it is, because it's mostly an inside joke, but we're keeping it anyways. (You'll probably come to understand in the next two chapters that I write anyways)

Logan sighed as he stared at his page of notes. Ever since Knightmare and Prince had first shown themselves to him, he had begun to write down everything he knew about them. Over the many heists he had gone too, that list had grown much longer than when he started it, but he still felt like he was missing something incredibly important.

He frowned as he read his most recent notes.  
Prince, who can clearly lift at least 200 pounds, struggled to move a desk Knightmare had used to block him  
Knightmare and Prince seem to know more about each other than I do

The first one was somewhat odd, though the second was something he had noticed from the beginning. Logically, Prince and Knightmare must have some sort of connection. They did show up at around the same time after all. Perhaps they knew each other before the heists began?

As Logan pondered this, he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of his window closing. He turned in his chair, only to see no one there. However, a disk, from Knightmare’s most recent heist, was sitting on his coffee table, along with a note. Logan mentally noted that he would have to pay more attention to his surroundings while thinking from now on, as he hadn’t even noticed the window opening. He also jotted down a mental note to get better locks for said window.

Wary of tricks, despite there never having been any before when an object was returned, one could never be too careful though, Logan walked over and picked up the note.

“Here’s the disk, - Prince.” Short and simple.

Except it wasn’t that simple.

Logan went back to his computer to check his report on the most recent heist, the one the disk had been taken from, and sure enough, by all accounts, Knightmare was the one who had taken the disk, not Prince. 

So why was Prince the one returning it?

Logan pondered this question. Perhaps Prince had managed to capture Knightmare and retrieve the disk after he had left the heist? No, Prince would’ve mentioned it, and besides, Knightmare had been long gone before Prince left. Did Knightmare return the disk to Prince, who then returned it to Logan? Unlikely, previously, it’s always been Knightmare himself who has returned what he stole. So why was Prince the one returning the disk?

As Logan thought about it, his mind turned back to his notes. Thinking about the most recent heist, he realized that it had been clear that Prince had been quite clearly pulling his punches when fighting Knightmare. Almost as though he didn’t really want to catch him.

When that thought hit him, the pieces began to slide into place. Logan immediately began composing an email to inform the others of his thoughts. Of course, it was currently just a theory, but there was definitely enough of a chance. 

A chance that Knightmare and Prince might be working together.


	10. Roman Commits Way to Hard

Roman would like to be able to say that he was surprised when Virgil kicked down his door at 3am in the morning, but at this point, he’s gotten used to it.

What he wasn’t used to however was Virgil immediately chucking a pillow at his face.

“Virgil leave me alone I’m trying to sleep.” Roman said, hugging the pillow Virgil had thrown at him and rolling over. He had a long day yesterday, and now wanted nothing more than to sleep the whole night.

“Roman you fool!” Virgil, shouted, “They’re on to us!” 

That got Roman to wake up. 

“What do you mean they’re on to us?” He said, sitting up. In response, Virgil shoved his phone into his face. Roman took the phone from Virgil’s hand in order to better read the message. 

The first thing he noticed was that it was from Logan. The second thing he noticed was that it suggested Knightmare and Prince were working together.

“Oh. That’s not good.” 

“Ya think?” Virgil flopped onto the bed, smushing his face into the blankets. “They’ve figured it out Roman! It won’t be much longer before the figure out everything else!” He said, clearly beginning to panic.

“Now hold on Virgil.” Roman said, “Logan states that this is just his hypothesis. Which means he isn’t sure that it’s right. So, all we have to do is give him some evidence that shows that we’re not working together.”

“Do you really think that’ll work?” Virgil asked.

“Yep! We just have to commit to our roles harder!”   
\--------

Virgil decided it was in their best interests to hold the next heist as soon as possible, to get Logan off their track. Before the heist, they had agreed that the best way to do that, was to simply go all out. That way, it couldn’t possibly seem like they were working together.

As Virgil looked down at the room from the vents, he could see Logan, Thomas, and Patton standing in the corner of the room. Prince was on the other side. It seemed that Logan and the others weren’t letting Prince in on whatever their plan was, probably because they think he’s working with Knightmare.

Which isn’t exactly wrong, but still.

At 9:00pm Virgil burst out of the vents, and the heist begun. Before Virgil could even begin to yell out any clever quips, Prince was there, ready to fight. So fight they did. 

Logan, Thomas and Patton couldn’t do anything but watch, as they didn’t want to get themselves hurt by getting in between them. From where they were standing, Knightmare and Prince could hear Logan say that he might’ve been wrong. But Prince figured that, just in case, he better kick it up a notch.

CRACK

Kicking it up a notch had been a very bad idea. Knightmare yelped in pain and jumped away from him, holding his left arm. They stared at each other for a few moments, before Knightmare turned and escaped out the window, still maintaining his grip on his arm. Not even bothering to look back at Logan and the others, Prince followed him.

\------  
“ROMAN YOU BROKE MY ARM!”

“I’m sorry!”

“SORRY ISN’T GONNA FIX A BROKEN ARM ROMAN.”


	11. "Roman Pushed Me Down the Stairs" - Virgil

The next morning, Virgil and Roman walked into the Journalism Club room. Virgil’s arm was wrapped in a purple cast. Patton gasped as soon as he saw them.

“Virgil! What happened to your arm?” He asked, rushing over, bringing the plate of cookies that had been sitting on the club table with him.

“It broke.” Was all Virgil said, taking a cookie from Patton and sitting down at the table. Logan looked suspicious for a moment, but the moment quickly passed. As Roman sat down, Thomas spoke up.

“How’d you break it?” Thomas asked, “Did you fall out of a tree? Trip on the sidewalk? Fall of a bike?”

“Roman pushed me down the stairs.” Virgil said, glaring at Roman. 

“It was an accident! I’ve already told you I’m sorry Doom and Gloom.” Roman said.

“Sorry still doesn’t fix a broken arm Roman.” 

“Wait wait wait. I’m sorry to interrupt this argument (no I’m not), but how exactly did Roman accidentally push you down the stairs?” Logan asked.

“The key word there is accidental.” Roman said, “We were helping our friend clean up some juice that had spilled, and I ended up accidentally knocking Virgil, which caused him to lose his balance and fall down the stairs.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re alright.” Patton said. 

“I’m glad that I’m alright too, but that doesn’t changed the fact that I could’ve died.” 

“Virgil it was only five stairs you wouldn’t have died even if you tried.” Roman said. Virgil began to stand up.

“You wanna test that theory Roman? Let’s see how you like being pushed down the stairs.” He said. Logan interrupted before a fight could begin.

“No one is pushing anyone down the stairs. It’s very dangerous and, wait. Thomas, are you writing this down?” 

Attention suddenly shifted to Thomas, who looked up from his little notebook with guilt.

“What? The near death of a student from falling down the stairs is a good story for the newspaper.”


	12. 'Same Hat' Meme (But Deep)

It had been a very long time since Roman had discovered his powers. He felt, to some degree, like a failure. After four years, he was no closer to finding out who this stupid Knightmare was, nor what they wanted. It was particularly insulting the way they announced themselves; Roman felt bad enough about his failure without Knightmare, his enemy, helping him.

The fights were getting more interesting. Roman had figured out what Knightmare could do: produce a mild negative static charge all over their body, an intense charge at one point, or even create a decent voltage between two extremities, like their hands.

Last time, Knightmare had sent a heist notice that he would be robbing the huge U of T library again. Enough fights had gone down in that particular building that Roman had a pretty good idea of specifically which room was the target. He took a heavy metal bookshelf, and using almost all of his considerable strength, pushed it into the doorway to the room. There was no other way in. Knightmare would show up with all their flashy flying distractions, but when they got to the door, Roman would be there to catch them.

Of course, a solid bookshelf in the doorway was going to attract attention from the student body. Logan Wright, some uppity masters student from the States went off to tattle, or something. A tour of the university with a few familiar faces (Deceit, Yellow, Frumpo, Anxiety, Knob-Knees, all a bunch of annoying underachievers. None of them stood a chance of getting in) stopped entirely to gape. Roman was glad for the cheap Zorro mask he’d bought and spray-painted white. If any of the faculty saw him, they’d immediately recognize him as his parents’s son, and then he’d never get in. Besides, even though they weren’t on the best of terms since he’d found out about the way the experiments had gone, he still didn’t want them fired from the university.

Knightmare was a bit late. Roman was a bit excited until he saw the metal ball clutched victoriously in his enemy’s hand, and the look of intense concentration on his face. Knightmare placed his hand on the metal bookshelf, and with a slump, appeared to become fairly immediately exhausted. Even so, when they placed the ball in a crack that had formed from the stress of Roman pushing the bookshelf into the wall. It was obviously as intensely charged as Knightmare had just made the bookshelf, because the two flew apart. The wall was obliterated in a radius big enough for the thief to get through, and the bookshelf forced back a good forty centimeters.

Roman might have caught him that day, but the ball had flown through the wall towards Roman, and he saw that if he didn’t catch it, it was going to hit a student who was innocently studying. Leaping after the ball cost Prince his chance at Knightmare but probably saved someone’s life.

Reflecting back on those events now, Roman is feeling conflicted. He is considering accepting an offer to U of T. On the one hand, it was a good school, and having parents on faculty would be an advantage whether they were speaking to each other or not. On the other hand, who knew if Knightmare was going to stay in Toronto as they had so far, or, having raided just about everywhere on campus by now, move on to some other large institution. 

As usual, Knightmare’s ruinous timing interrupted his train of thought. Another heist notice. For another building that had already been raided. Why was Knightmare sticking around?

It became quite clear later that day, at the time of the heist. Knightmare, always so painfully punctual, was nowhere to be found. Unless… Roman ran to the secret, closed-off lab his parents had used to conduct the experiments from when he was seven. Knightmare shouldn’t know about it, unless he’d gotten his powers in that lab, too. Roman had always suspected, on some level; electric eel, electric powers.

Bursting in, Roman saw Knightmare in the middle of the room, trembling. Small metal objects from further away than Roman had ever seen him affect were being pulled towards the huddled figure, touching him, and flying away. Unthinkingly, Roman reached out to comfort them; any human being in pain deserved help. Once he had touched Knightmare, he found that he couldn’t get his hand close again, just like the little metal objects from all around the room.

The slightly prolonged contact caused Knightmare to lift their head. His powers’s fit had caused his mask to fall away. The only thing left on his face was the intense black eye makeup he had to wear to fill in the eyeholes of his mask with black. “Virgil?!?” Roman asked, alarmed.

“Rubber soles,” Virgil replied. “If you take of your shoes, you’ll ground and be able to touch me. But it’s really tiring if I can’t get the production down; my powers kick into high gear to try to compensate for the drain.”

“How do you know about this place?”

“Some evil scientists did experiments on me as a child here. I’ve been looking for evidence to expose them; that’s why I do all this.” Virgil gestured emptily at his costume. He seemed entirely defeated.

“Those evil scientists were my parents. They did experiments on me, too, though, as I understand, they treated me much better than they did you. I only found out that they weren’t legit in Grade 9, and I assumed you worked for them, since you had powers.”

“So,” Virgil laughed somewhat hysterically, “We’ve been working towards the same goal, for the same reasons, against each other, for four years.”

“Well, maybe we should work together, instead.”


	13. Sorry, Ya Just Missed Him

Doucette was looking back on his life. He’d nearly died after having been forced to yeet himself out the window this past January, and self-reflection had become a more common exercise in his life ever since.

When he was in Grade 8, his family had fallen on bad times financially. Driving back into Toronto after a late New Years party with family, their car had hit a patch of black ice and gone off the road. Insurance had refused to cover the costs. They were mired in debt.

To recover, the Doucettes had found out about a lucrative, if shady, program at the university that was looking to recruit children on which to perform some “Brief developmental studies”. Doucette had immediately been volunteered.

He was apparently not the first to go through the procedure. It involved the implantation of segments of an electric eel’s DNA into Doucette’s cells. The scientists kept him for a few days to see how and if they would be expressed. Why this was important information baffled the teen, but money was money. Unfortunately, the genes expressed themselves. While no effects were immediately presenting themselves, the scientists left him alone to read. Turning a page, he got a paper cut. When it healed over, the new skin cells were reptilian, not human.

Apparently, this was cause for further experimentation. The experiments were not in any way comfortable, and Doucette learned to resent the scientists performing them; the head of the Faculty of Science, Professor Sanders, as well as the two Professors Romanov chief among them. Over time, excessive trials left Doucette with a snake-like stretch of eel skin covering half of his face, as well as on other parts of his body. It gave him no particular advantages; no special skills as, he understood, others in previous trials had received.

He was quick, upon their appearance, to figure out that Knightmare and the Prince were two of those gifted individuals. While he wanted to approach them and talk, they had apparently been expulsed from the program, and so were unavailable for the talks he enjoyed having with the other subjects of the tests.

Now, as he looked back, those talks were a great source of regret. It had given the higher ups the idea they would listen to him, that he could be used to control them. Like now; he was staring Prof. Sanders in the face. The mastermind was lecturing Doucette on having almost been seen by Thomas on numerous occasions in the past few months. What did the maniac expect? They’d been put in the same dorm room. The other test subjects Doucette was responsible for were all on the same floor of the building. Contact was almost unavoidable. Their clean record was a miracle, not a near mishap.

Leaving, Doucette thought about Virgil and Roman. He’d known since he was fifteen their secret identities, though he wasn’t sure how much they knew about him. Did they know he knew? In either case, their powers appeared to be causing them as much trouble as his regularly caused him. Roman had clearly broken Virgil’s arm in their bizarre charade of conflict. It occured to Doucette he could probably help them. Out of the control of the crazy science conspiracy as they were, they might be able to expose and end it. They probably deserved his help.

When Doucette presented the modified cast to Virgil (One that would hold his arm properly, instead of pushing the bones in weird directions as the cast got electrically charged), Roman pulled him aside. The blond-haired boy explained some of the more emotionally damaging aspects of Virgil’s powers; the impossibility of physical contact. Roman looked at the master of the makerspace with pleading eyes, and Doucette had a wonderful idea.


	14. Virgil Has A Bad Day

Virgil was woken up before his alarm. The great thing about this semester was that had had no classes before ten in the morning, and could usually sleep in until at least nine. However, today, Roman woke him up before dawn for a heist.

“C’mon, you said we needed to be careful, so I figured, early start, less witnesses, maybe only Logan will get up,” Roman said. “You can be Knightmare, too. No sense you trying to imitate my powers with a broken arm.”

Just then, a crash of thunder shook the building. Virgil realized that the fuzziness in his head was not only due to the lack of sleep, but the electrical disturbance in the air.

“Check the weather, Roman, you know my powers go fritzy during a storm.” As he spoke, his powers surged on the left half of him body, driving all his covers to the floor. “Please tell me you haven’t sent the notice out yet.”

Roman looked vaguely contrite. “Sorry,” he said, “I’ll go easy on you.”

As Virgil waited in the rain for the 7:26 heist time, the hood of his costume kept falling off as his powers flared. Water kept falling down his neck, because the storm was messing with his powers so much that the collar of the black hoodie kept lifting off his neck.

The heist went badly. His shoes came loose, and it was all Roman could do to make it seem like Knightmare’s falling down was Prince’s fault. They even had to pull the sketchy “I’ll return this to you later, I just need to lose Knightmare so he doesn’t know where it is” excuse to check the object of the heist for evidence of the experiments.

Virgil was soaked all class, because held slightly away from his body, his clothes didn’t really dry with his body heat. He also couldn’t take notes fast enough with his broken arm. If typing when his powers were on the fritz was possible, he could keep up, even with the broken arm. However, if they spiked in his fingers, he’d fry the computer and lose everything. He wasn’t getting much anyway. It’s hard to hold a pencil when it’s being repelled from your hand like a magnet of opposite polarity. To make it worse, exams were coming up, he had three term papers due in the next week, and the godforsaken buzzing the storm was causing in his head made it impossible to focus.

Walking home, Roman was kind enough to share his umbrella. Of course, he expected that Virgil would charge it so the water would fly away from them as it dripped off the edges instead of landing on their shoulders. Unfortunately, Roman didn’t realize he was holding the metal part of the umbrella, not the plastic, so the whole thing was being grounded. By the time Roman realized, Virgil was exhausted from the effort of creating so much charge. Really, he just needed a nap.

Once they got home, Roman got a text from Thomas: “Could you and Virgil come over, we need to have a long conversation about the latest heist.”


End file.
